


Into the Arms of the Enemy

by agoddamnsupernova



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on a Tumblr Post, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoddamnsupernova/pseuds/agoddamnsupernova
Summary: With no where else to go, Clarke shows up in Polis, wounded, scared and alone. Lexa takes her in and Clarke finds that the world is not nearly as black and white as she had once thought.





	1. Betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this tumblr post https://promptnerd-whumplover.tumblr.com/post/179549370724/the-hero-shows-up-at-the-villains-doorstep-one

Her shoulder still stings as she stands from the bed, arms stretching above her head. “Thank you, for patching me up,” Clarke murmurs, listening to Niylah pulling on her clothes. “I’ll bring you the jaguar’s pelt another time, I promise.”

“You do not have to do that,” Niylah replies as Clarke shrugs on her jacket, running a hand through her red stained hair, her palm coming away with streaks of red ochre across it. “It is a dangerous feat.”

Clarke snorts a bit, scrubbing her hand against her jeans before she grabs her things. “I laugh in the face of danger,” she smirks, shouldering her pack before turning to her lover. “I will return with it’s pelt.”

“Whatever you say,” Niylah says softly, shaking her head a bit. She shuffles them both to the front and hands Clarke her waterskin, a small frown on her face. “Be safe.”

Clarke nods and attaches the waterskin to her belt before heading for the door. “Thank you for everything, have a good night,” she finds herself saying before she’s leaving, pulling her hood over her head as she walks into the night.

She feels as though she’s being watched as she slinks through the forest, her senses on high alert. She stops with her back to a tree, only taking long enough to drink her fill of water before continuing on. Something was stalking her and she wouldn’t be made prey tonight.

She’s been jogging for what seems like hours, her limbs slowly morphing into sandbags, weighing her down as she continues forward. Everything seems to happen slowly and then all at once. She stumbles over a root, her entire being seeming to blur into itself at the point of impact making her head swim.

Before she can stand someone is kicking her in the gut, pushing her body over to look at the two men over her, faces painted white. “Azgeda,” she hisses out before another foot collides with her ribs.

She gasps out as she fights to stand, surprised when the warriors allow her to “What did you do to me?” She demands as she pulls out her knife, lashing out with it, only to have the man avoid her attack with ease, knocking her on her ass once again.

“Your little friend betrayed you,” one sniggers, as he grabs a handful of her hair. “And thanks to her, I will be delivering your head to the queen.”

Clarke can feel the cool blade against her throat, her pulse throbbing against the metal. For a moment she’s afraid but then everything stills and she braces herself for whatever comes next. If she is to die, then so be it.

As if the universe had heard her giving up, there’s a deep growl that fills the air before a heavy thud sounds from her left. The jaguar had come to claim it’s prey once more, only this time it had competition.

“ _Onca_ ,” the warrior behind her hisses, shoving her toward the beast. She trips over her own feet, skinning her palms as she hits the forest floor once more.

She looks up at the large feline, finding it ready to lunge. She closes her eyes tightly as she ducks her head, throwing her arms up over her face. It’s claws rake across her back as it all but runs over her, going after her attackers first.

Her back feels as though it is on fire as she forces herself up, head spinning while she turns to watch the warriors fight the beast. It is then, while the jaguar, the onca, as they had said tore into the men, that she decided to run to the only place close enough that might lend her sanctuary without the weight of guilt.

Her feet carry her as fast as they can through the forest, her heart throbbing in her chest. The trees start to thin the closer she gets to the city and she allows herself to hope, even for a moment that she would make it out of this alive.

Hope is such a fickle thing.

A low growl diminishes any progress she had accumulated in the last twenty minutes as she braces herself for the imminent tackle that would take her to the ground once more. It comes later than she expects, the hulking mass of muscle taking her down in seconds.

It’s claws dig into her back causing her to cry out, her voice hoarse and weak. Adrenaline spikes through her bloodstream, sending her heart into a chaotic rhythm as she somehow manages to push herself up, throwing the feline from her.

The back of her jacket is torn open, the chilled night air stinging her open wounds as she brandishes her knife and waits for the beast to lunge again. It would be its last.

She hunkers down, knife held in front of her chest as the jaguar pounces. She grunts as the hilt smacks into her chest, driving the blade into the cat, rendering it motionless.

She lays there, for a moment, her chest heaving as she tries to calm down, tries to get her wits about her. But then the weight of the jaguar becomes too much, making the sky girl feel claustrophobic. She struggles to push the dead animal off of her, but once she does her lungs fill with cool air and she rolls over to cough into the dirt, heaving up nothing but bile before she collapses.

Clarke knows she needs to move, needs help but she is weak and sleep calls. Her eyes fall shut for a moment, her whole body seeming to relax. Something akin to fear spikes through her, igniting her senses. Blue eyes snap open, taking in the dim light that filters through from the edge of the forest.

_Polis_.

* * *

 

Lexa is in the middle of dressing down for the day when a guard announces they have captured a wounded Wanheda who was seen stumbling to the city’s edge. She quickly pulls on what armor she has shed before she orders the woman to be brought to her chambers.

There is a sturdy knock against the oaken doors which she pulls open after a moment, not wanting her guards to see her as eager to see the blonde. She barely contains a gasp when her eyes settle on Clarke. She is covered in blood and shaking, her eyes wide with fear. Her pupils were blown wide and she almost seemed to fidget in her own skin. _Drugged_.

Lexa opens her mouth to ask what had happened but then Clarke’s trembling lips are forming words, her body straining from the effort of lifting her head so those dazed blue eyes can look into forest green. “...didn’t know where else to go...”

With those words spoken, the last of the woman’s strength seems to fade, her body slumping forward and into Lexa’s arms. The guards look surprised and fearful as they go to move Clarke but Lexa stops them with a single look, easily scooping the wounded sky princess into her arms.

“Send for Healer Kasie and ask the staff to send hot water up for my bath,” she barks out in English despite herself, kicking the door shut as she carries Clarke to her bed. “What happened to you...”

Lexa let’s her fingers trail down Clarke’s bruised cheek, a soft frown on her lips. She jumps as if shocked when a knock sounds at the door and she quickly makes sure her emotions are in check when she grants the healer entry. “I wish to be of service, Kasie.”

“Then you best help me get these clothes off of her, the risk of infection is already high, but these clothes are filthy...and quite frankly, so is Wanheda,” Kasie replies, shaking her head a bit as she starts cutting away the remains of Clarke’s tattered clothing.

Lexa does her best not to seem offended on Clarke’s behalf and just starts pulling away the cut fabric until Clarke is laid bare before them. “The bruising to her ribs is only half of it, there are a few bones that are damaged and wrapping them may prove difficult with the injuries to her back.”

The commander nods slightly, her hands trembling as she takes in how battered Clarke is. Bruises bloom across her ribs and along her breast bone and her back looks like it’s been shredded. “Kasie...the wounds to her back, what do you think may have caused them?”

The healer pauses, shrugging her shoulder a bit. “With the amount of damage it may have been a large predator.”

“But she was drugged,” Lexa says with a little more force than she means, making the young healer cringe slightly. “My apologies, I am just trying to figure out what has happened here.”

“You may have to wait until Wanheda wakes up, there is a story to be told in her injuries, one that we are simply missing the details to,” Kasie replies, her eyes flickering up to Lexa’s for a moment before she’s all business once more. “Commander, could you go fix the bath, I am almost finished assessing her injuries.”

Lexa nods once before turning on her heel to move toward the bathroom, her resolve crumbling away bit by bit as she fills her large tub with warm water. She takes a moment to look at herself in the mirror that’s hung on the wall, her armor is stained with Clarke’s blood and her hands are smeared with it.

She has an overwhelming urge to rid herself of the red streaks but she forces it down as she marches back toward the bed, knowing she will need to move Clarke into the bath. “I have filled the tub a little over half way as I am unsure she will wake up and be able to hold herself up.”

Kasie nods, her hands covered in Clarke’s life essence. “We’ll need to be quick, I have given her a herb mixture that will help stop the bleeding but she has already lost so much that I need to clean her wounds and sew them up.”

Lexa nods, gently pushing Kasie out of the way, sliding her arms under Clarke, lifting her off of the bed furs. “Will you ask the guards to send someone in to change these and bring in clean linens, we will cover the chaise and you can stitch her wounds there.”

“ _Sha_ , _Heda_ ,” the healer replies as Lexa takes Clarke into the bathroom.

She slowly and very gently lowers Clarke into the water, wincing when Clarke sucks in a pained breath once her back hit the water. “Goddamn, mother fucking...fuck!” Clarke shouts, her body cringing away from the warm water, her hands scrabbling at Lexa’s shoulder.

“Clarke,” Lexa says softly, trying to calm the woman. “Clarke, please, breathe and allow yourself to calm down.”

Clarke takes in a shuddering breath, her fingers digging into Lexa’s shoulders. “Lexa? How did I? When...what happened?”

Lexa’s brows crawl up her forehead as she smooths her thumb over Clarke’s skin. “You came to me, bleeding and scared, I have a healer that needs me to clean your wounds so she can sew them shut.”

“ _Onca_ ,” the woman hisses out, her grip on Lexa’s shoulders tightening as her breathing kicks up.

“ _Klark_ ,” Lexa says with a little more force, making Clarke’s eyes snap to her own. She presses their foreheads together and whispers softly. “You are safe here, but I need to get you cleaned up before you lose anymore blood. Please let me take care of you.”

Her words seem to soothe the fear that had come alive inside of the sky girl, her fingers relaxed against Lexa’s shoulders, slipping to rest on her chest. “Okay, I’m sorry,” Clarke’s voice is soft and broken and it makes Lexa’s heart clench tightly in her chest.

“This might sting,” Lexa murmurs as she lowers Clarke back into the water, her jaw tensing when Clarke lets out a low, painful sound. “I apologize.”

Clarke shakes her head in response, her teeth grinding together once she has been set into the tub. Her hands clench and unclench as she tries to even out her breathing, her brow furrowed in concentration. “I have broken ribs,” she wheezes out after a moment.

“Kasie said that there had been damage to your ribs aside from the obvious bruising and that wrapping them would prove difficult with the wounds on your back,” Lexa replies, reaching for a clean cloth and a small bottle of cleansing oil.

“Wrapping them isn’t necessary,” Clarke says, her hands slowly relaxing against her thighs. “It will just make getting comfortable a little more difficult.”

“We have draughts that will help with pain and sleeping,” Lexa hums, dipping the cloth into a bowl of clean water, adding some oil to it before lathering it up. “This will be painful,” she warns, allowing Clarke to brace before she starts to clean her wounds as gently as possible.

Clarke is left gasping and pale by the time she has finished, her body trembling. “Please tell me you’re done, I can’t handle any more...” Clarke breathes out, tears streaming down her face.

“I am finished,” Lexa murmurs, before tossing out the tainted water. She runs more into the basin, rinsing it before filling it once more, another cloth sat inside of it. “Would you like me to wash the rest of you...or?”

“I’ve got it,” Clarke responds weakly, grabbing the soapy rag before dragging it across her skin. They’re quiet for a moment before Lexa stands abruptly. “Where are you going?”

“I just have to change into some clean clothes before I can carry you back out, I do not wish to undo what we’ve just accomplished.” Lexa replies before she sticks her head out, murmuring something to someone before stepping out.

Kasie takes her place, keeping an eye on Clarke as she makes quick work of changing, pulling on a soft leather tunic and a pair of dark leggings. She steps back into the room and makes quick work of washing her hands.

“Is everything ready, Kasie?” Lexa asks, her eyes flickering from Clarke’s exhausted form to the healer and back again.

“ _Sha_ , _Heda_ ,” the healer replies before stepping to the side, allowing Lexa to slide her arms around Clarke.

Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa’s neck, burying her face against the commander’s shoulder as she’s lifted from the water. “I am deeply sorry, Clarke,” Lexa murmurs when she feels her dampness against her shoulder, Clarke’s shoulders shuddering slightly.

“It’s okay,” Clarke whispers back as Lexa carries her to the chaise, laying her down on the soft linen. “Can you help me get on my stomach, I’m sure she’ll want to start with those.”

Lexa nods and helps as much as she can until Clarke is laying face down her arms tucked under her head. It is then that Lexa can see all of the damage for what it’s worth. Long, deep gouges run from the top of Clarke’s left shoulder all the way down to her lower back, a few more smaller lacerations along her right shoulder and just above her hips.

“Wanheda, I must ask, how did you come to have these,” Kasie asks as she mixes together a numbing draught, pouring it along Clarke’s back. “They look to be almost torture wounds.”

Lexa stiffens at the mention of torture, jumping when Clarke’s hand settles on her arm, a slight smile on her face. “I was attacked by a pair of Azgeda warriors, they told me that someone close to me had betrayed me and I can only assume they meant that my water had been drugged.”

Lexa’s chest fills with rage as her mind races, trying to come up with an apt punishment for Azgeda when Clarke continues. “But those men did not cause the injuries to my back, I’m afraid that the jaguar, the men called it Onca, caused those. She no longer draws breath. I’m sure if you send scouts to the edge of the forest you could find her corpse. Her pelt would look nice on your floor, Heda.”

Lexa lets out a sharp bark of laughter, her rage subsiding only slightly knowing that Azgeda had not caused quite as much damage, but she would still bring Nia to justice. “Perhaps I will have it’s pelt made into a coat for you, winter nears.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, her brow furrowing. “I can vaguely feel what she’s doing...it’s odd picturing her pulling my skin back together.”

“I can give you something for sleep, if that would make you more comfortable,” Kasie offers, pausing her actions. “This will be a long process and it will leave scars, I’m afraid.”

Clarke chuckles slightly, shaking her head. “I’m okay, but I am thirsty,” she says, turning her head to rest on her forearm. “And don’t worry about the scars, I’m sure someone will find them attractive,” she finishes, her eyes falling on Lexa.

Lexa can feel her cheeks burn as she averts her gaze, shifting to grab the water pitcher and cup from beside her bed. She brings Clarke the drink, settling down on the floor beside the blonde once more, willing away the butterflies that had erupted in her stomach. Clarke was clearly still dazed for Lexa knew the hatred the blonde had for her, ever since the mountain.

“Here, take it slowly,” Lexa says after a moment, handing Clarke a nearly full cup. She watches Clarke take a few sips before she’s gulping down the water, sighing when it is empty. “So much for slow,” the commander murmurs, filling the cup once more.

“I feel like I could drink a lake and never be sated,” Clarke replies before finishing off her second cup.

“Heda, perhaps we could call down for some juice, it will help her recover from her dehydration a little faster,” Kasie suggests, her voice low and her tone soft.

Lexa appreciates her efforts to not seem like she’s telling her what to do, so she smiles and gets up to ask her guards to send for whatever fruit juice they can find the fastest. She leans against the door, watching the healer work as Clarke closes her eyes.

If Lexa had thought for one minute that Clarke would return to her in such a state, she would never have let the blonde out of her sight. Her chest aches as her greatest weakness lay still under the swift hands of the healer. She would make Azgeda pay for their crime and she would do it soon.

A maid returns with a pitcher of juice and she takes it with a grateful smile before closing the door once more. “Clarke, drink this,” Lexa hums as she settles back down again, pouring her companion a cup full of the dark liquid.

Clarke opens her eyes slowly, her pupils now close to a normal size as she takes in the commander with a slight smile. “Thank you,” she murmurs, taking the drink with sluggish hands.

She drinks heavily from the cup, setting it down once she’s finished. “I’m so tired, Lexa,” she all but whispers, nuzzling her face into the crook of her arm.

“Rest, I will be here when you awake,” Lexa replies, moving the cup off to the side. She glances at the work Kasie has done, seeing that she’s nearly finished with the larger gashes and Lexa wonder vaguely how long Clarke would end up staying in the tower.

“Thank you, Kasie,” she says after a moment, watching the healer look up from her work only for the moment it takes to nod her head. “I trust few with...a situation like this.”

“I understand, Heda,” Kasie replies softly, pausing her actions to tie the final stitch and cut the thread. “You have done so much for me and for my brother, I will always come to your aide, no explanation required.”

Lexa smiles softly, letting her shoulders drop a fraction as she leans back. “I am happy to keep you and Aden safe, he deserves to have his sister near. He deserves far better than I had as a young nightblood.”

“You deserve better, too, Commander,” Kasie offers softly, her kind eyes focused on the older woman. “You deserve happiness.”

It startles her, how sincere the healer’s words are and the effect they have on her heart. It stutters and restricts and for a moment she’s sure it’s stopped but then her gaze slips to the slumbering girl who had fallen from the sky. “Perhaps you are right, Kasie.”


	2. Understanding

Lexa sits in one of her more comfortable chairs, a book laid on the arm. She would like to say she’s reading, but her thoughts are elsewhere. Her eyes flicker from the woman sleeping in her bed to the book and back again.

Her chest feels tight when she thinks about how differently this could have all gone. Clarke could have died out there, either by the hands of Azgeda or the claws of the Onca.

This was all too familiar. Azgeda’s assault on Clarke stirring long since buried feelings. Her thoughts drift to memories that swirl along the back of her mind like silt disturbed along a river bed. They’re grainy and almost intangible.

If she concentrates hard enough she can make them out, wrap her fingers around the particles and put them back together. It’s been too long since the last time she’d willingly thought about Costia, about their time together before...

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the pictures that flood her mind. The box laid at her feet, Costia’s unseeing gaze staring up at her. Ashen skin and too pale lips. And then everything was red, rage filling up every inch of her being until she’s ready to march on the Ice Queen’s lands.

Titus talked her out of it, of course he did. All logic and no emotion, no substance. She listened though, knowing the coalition wouldn’t survive if she put them to war like that. And so she buried Costia with the great commanders in the middle of the night and come daylight she buried her memory as well.

Love was weakness.

She’s brought back to reality by Clarke’s stirring, the linens shifting against the plush mattress. Lexa moves closer, kneeling by the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her knees. “Clarke, how are you feeling?” She asks, watching Clarke’s eyes snap open.

Blue eyes fill with panic as Clarke scrambles to sit up, letting out a hiss of pain as she shoves herself off the other side of the bed. “Traitor!” She shouts, standing on wobbling legs.

“Clarke, you need to calm down,” Lexa says softly, standing slowly, her hands up in surrender. “You’re hurt, all this moving will make it worse.”

“How did I get here? Did you kidnap me?” Clarke spits, slowly backing up toward the wall as Lexa tries to get closer. “What’s your game, Lexa?”

The commander lets out a sigh, shaking her head as her hands drop to her sides. “There is no game, Clarke, if you’ll just calm down I will tell you of how you came to be here,” she murmurs when she’s stood in front of Clarke.

Clarke spits in her face, anger blazing in her eyes as she glares up at the commander. “You left me on the mountain to die. I thought you cared about me! I thought you lo-” she shakes her head, her gaze cutting to the floor. “-but no, all you care about is yourself, you asshole.”

“Clarke, me leaving the mountain has nothing to do with my feelings for you,” Lexa replies, carefully wiping Clarke’s spit from her face. “I had to protect my people and my leaving gave you an advantage, the mountain assumed you would retreat. I gave you the means to slay the mountain.”

Lexa watches the anger explode behind crystalline irises before she sees Clarke’s hand move. The sound of flesh connecting with flesh echoes around the room, Lexa’s cheek stinging, the force of the slap snapping her head to the side. She grits her teeth and turns her head back in time to see Clarke ducking around her.

The blonde darts across the room, giving Lexa a good look at her back, her thin linen shirt blossoming with red. “Clarke, you need to calm down, you’re just exacerbating your injuries.”

“Shut up,” Clarke snaps, whipping around to face Lexa, her cheeks pale, frantic eyes looking for a means of escape. “Just shut up and let me go, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere!”

If Lexa hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed it, the subtle shift from rage induced panic to full on panic attack. It starts with Clarke’s breathing, which has hitched and gone shallow, her chest rising and falling far too rapidly to be any good. Then Clarke’s hands start to twitch, curling into fists for the barest of moments before opening again, fingers drumming against nothing.

“Clarke,” Lexa murmurs, watching the blonde’s head snap back to look at her. “Try to breathe slowly, you’re going to hurt yourself further if you don’t.”

Clarke’s lip trembles while she looks at the commander, her eyes watering as she opens her mouth. “Why did you abandon me?” She asks, her voice cracking around her irregular breathing.

Before Lexa can answer, Clarke starts to sway, her eyes fluttering shut. She’s barely quick enough, but she manages to close the distance between them just in time for Clarke to fall into her arms for the second time in less than twelve hours.

“I’m so sorry,” Lexa murmurs as she gently pulls Clarke into her arms, carrying her back to the bed. She does her best to situate the blonde as comfortably on her front as possible before she’s off sending for Kasie once more.

As she waits, she stands off to the side, her cheek still burning. A part of her wonders if it will bruise. She deserved much worse after all.

“Heda, you sent for me?” Kasie says as she enters the room, her eyes flickering from Lexa’s face to Clarke and back again. “What’s happened?”

“Clarke woke up, agitated and confused, it was almost like she wasn’t seeing me as I am,” Lexa replies, her voice low. “She seemed as though she was stuck in the memory of the night I left Skaikru on the mountain.”

The young healer nods, moving toward the bed. She easily cuts away the linen shirt, tsking softly. “She’s pulled some stitches,” she sighs softly, moving to pull out vials from her bag. “I will have to redo them.”

Lexa nods, staying quiet as Kasie works, watching the young woman stitch Wanheda back together once again. “We don’t know what she was drugged with.” Kasie murmurs after the silence becomes heavy. “It’s very likely that it is the cause of her reaction when she woke up.”

The commander draws in a deep breath, trying to calm her senses as she stares out the window. “While the drug in her system may have caused the confusion and panic, _I_ am the cause of the rage that overtook her once she became aware of her surroundings.”

“She sees what I did on the mountain as betrayal, refuses to see the logic of the decision,” Lexa continues, running a tired hand over her face. “She will always see it as me choosing duty over her, she will always see me as someone to hate.”

“Perhaps she thinks that way now,” Kasie says softly as she finishes her work on Clarke’s back. “But if I may be so bold, I do not think that she will always feel this way. I saw the way you two looked at each other last night, how soft you both are when you’re relaxed and feel safe. She lo-”

“-Kasie, do not give me false hope,” Lexa interrupts, shaking her head as she plops down in her chair with a frustrated sigh.  “I can not bare to have my heart broken another time.”

They are quiet for a moment as Kasie packs her things away and then the young woman is kneeling at Lexa’s chair. “I am speaking to you as my friend and not as the commander,” she says before she continues. “I know you have been raised with the mindset that love is weakness and that being soft is a way to get hurt, but I don’t think you truly believe it.

“You took me in when Aden was brought to the tower to be trained, you sought his family out and when you found that only I remained, you brought me here and allowed to me hone my craft and look after my little brother,” Kasie says softly, moving her hand over Lexa’s. “You have protected us both and most importantly you have given Aden something that most nightbloods never get. His family.”

Lexa can’t help the small smile that forms with Kasie’s keen eyes on her. She shakes her head and turns her palm over so she can squeeze the woman’s hand. “I want better for him. So many nightbloods get taken away before they can even remember where they’ve come from. I was so happy when I found you because I knew he needed you. He needed more than I could give him.”

“And yet you claim that love is weakness,” Kasie hums as she stands, pulling her bag over her shoulder. “Do not presume that Clarke feels that way.”

And with that the healer takes her exit, leaving Lexa with her thoughts once more.

* * *

Clarke’s eyes open slowly, the effort seeming too much until she catches sight of a dozing Lexa near the bed. The commander’s head is lolling to the side, cheek pressed against her shoulder, the rest of her slumping in the chair. It makes Clarke smile slightly as she tries to sit up, hissing lowly when her stitches pull.

“Clarke?” Lexa’s soft voice sounds, the woman easily righting herself when she sees Clarke is awake. “Don’t try to move too much on your own, we can’t have you pulling anymore stitches.”

Clarke gives up trying to sit and let’s herself flop against the bed once more, her brow furrowed. “When did I pull stitches?”

Lexa opens her mouth and then closes it again shaking her head. “You don’t remember?”

Clarke closes her eyes for a moment, trying to remember what Lexa is talking about and when she opens them again, Lexa is kneeling by the bed and Clarke can see the faintest of bruises blooming across the older woman’s cheek.

It all comes flooding back in an instant, her memories blurred and muffled. All except one string of events. “Oh my god...” she murmurs, her eyes finding Lexa’s. “You...you saved me and I...I spit in your face and I _hit_ you.”

Lexa lets out an empty chuckle, the sound making Clarke frown. “I deserve much worse.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Clarke rushes out, bringing her hand up slowly to trace over the bruise she had caused. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Clarke,” Lexa says softly, her eyes closing as the blonde continues to stroke her tender skin. “You feel that I abandoned you at the base of the mountain, and in a sense, I did. You sought out to punish me and if that is what you have to give, then I will take it.”

Clarke lets out a soft sigh, her fingers sliding under Lexa’s chin. “Look at me,” she murmurs, waiting for forest green irises to appear before she continues. “I was hurt when you left, I thought we had finally hit a point where we could work together...be _together_ and then you turned your army around and walked away. And I was angry, angry at you, angry at myself, but mostly I was just angry about the situation.”

“If things had been different, there would have been more casualties than just the people of the mountain, there was no guarantee we would have won either,” Clarke pauses, trying to push her guilt into a small box in the back of her mind. “Am I still hurt by your decision? Yes, but only because you seem to have taken a piece of my heart when you turned away from me that day. But I am no longer angry with you, Lexa.”

Lexa’s eyes grow wide and for a moment Clarke is sure that she’s about to see the commander cry, but then there is a knock at the door and the moment is broken.

“My apologies,” Lexa murmurs, taking Clarke’s hand from her chin, bringing it to her lips for a moment before standing to head toward the door.

Clarke listens to the hushed conversation between the commander and her guard, her brow furrowing at a line of Trigedasleng that takes her a moment to translate. _“We’ve received a runner from Abby Griffin, she is asking if we have seen Wanheda.”_

Before Clarke can even think about whether or not she wants to let her mother know that she’s safe, Lexa is telling the man to send a runner back with false information, claiming it would start unnecessary trouble in the current moment.

To say she is relieved by Lexa’s decision would be an understatement, Clarke hadn’t realized how terrifying the thought of facing her mother after everything was until she was faced with the possibility.

“Wanheda, would you like something to eat?” Lexa asks, her tone formal as her door hangs open, giving Clarke a look at the men protecting the room.

With a small nod, Lexa sends for lunch and once the door is closed she lets herself relax. “Thank you, for not telling my mother I’m here,” she says after a moment, biting her lip.

“I do not wish to anger Skaikru, I feel your mother would see this as me keeping you hostage,” Lexa replies, settling back into her chair. “I have enough to worry about, Azgeda had warriors in my land and attacked without seeking my permission.”

“What are you going to do?” Clarke asks, shifting slowly until she’s on her side, bringing up a fur to cover her chest.

“Whatever I have to.”


	3. Revelation

The next week is painfully long for Clarke. She’s kept in bed except when Kasie or Lexa help her to the bathroom, which is usually followed by an inspection and thorough cleaning of her back.

“Lexa, I’m dying,” Clarke announces over lunch on the eighth day of her stay, which promptly leads to the commander choking on her food, coughing heavily. “Woah, breathe, Lex.”

“What do you mean, you are dying?” Lexa asks incredulously, her hand on her chest as she tries to slow her breathing. “Your wounds are healing beautifully, Kasie said that the stitches could come out soon.”

“It’s an expression,” Clarke chuckles, popping a grape into her mouth. “I’m just bored. I haven’t left this room since I got here. I just want to go out and walk around.”

Lexa sighs softly, taking a sip of her water before she nods a bit. “I have a meeting soon, after that I will escort you through the tower.”

“While that sounds wonderful, why can’t I go into the city?” Clarke asks, brows raised at the commander. “I miss the fresh air.”

“Let me take you around the tower, I will take you to a balcony so that you may be outside,” Lexa starts, setting her cup on the table in front of them. “When Kasie removes your stitches, then I will take you around the city. Does that sound fair?”

Clarke is quiet for a moment, chewing her lip as she tries to figure out if she can get the woman to concede. “Fine,” she huffs out finally, reaching for another grape. “But if I have to wait, I want you to find the best spot for stargazing. I think I’ve earned it.”

This makes Lexa chuckle, but she nods anyway. “I will see what I can do. Until then, try to be patient. You are healing.”

“I know,” Clarke replies softly, fiddling with the soft leather of her leggings. “I’m trying.”

“That’s all I ask,” Lexa hums in response as she stands from the couch. “I promise you will have your freedom returned to you soon. I just want to make sure you are taken care of for the time being.”

“That makes it sound like you’ve trapped me,” Clarke snorts softly, running a hand through her hair. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“I apologize, I didn’t intend to imply anything,” Lexa says, looking sheepish as she steps away from the blonde. “I just meant that-”

“-I know what you meant,” the sky girl smiles softly, looking up at the commander. “You shouldn’t worry so much.”

“I do nothing but worry, Clarke,” Lexa chuckles, shaking her head. “I will see you soon, send for me if you need anything at all.”

“Yes ma’am,”

* * *

 

“The view is beautiful,” Clarke murmurs as she leans over the balcony railing, her hair catching in the wind. She tilts her head up to the sky, soaking in the rays of the setting sun. “I really needed this.”

“I apologize if you’ve been feeling trapped, that is not my intention,” Lexa says softly, folding her arms against the railing, leaning heavily. “I don’t like the idea of you roaming without someone with you, all things considered. I am unsure of who we can trust as of late.”

“I don’t feel trapped,” Clarke murmurs, her eyes still on the sky. “At least, I don’t feel trapped by you, by this place.”

Lexa is quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the blonde. Her eyes follow the curve of Clarke’s neck, along her jaw to her lips before shaking herself out of it. “Is there anything you wish to talk about?”

“I feel like that’s a loaded question,” the sky girl snorts softly, finally looking away from the steadily darkening sky to focus on Lexa instead.

“I’m afraid I do not understand that expression,” the commander replies, her brow furrowed. “Will you explain?”

Clarke smiles at that, the corners of her eyes crinkling just slightly. “It just means that it’s a dangerous question. There are things I could talk about, probably should, but who knows what kind of chaos it could cause.”

“I do not think your speaking of your troubles will unleash chaos, Clarke,” the brunette replies, her green eyes seeming to shine in the dim light. “You are not Pandora’s box. You’re just someone who has been through a warrior’s life in too short of a time.”

Clarke mulls this over for a moment, letting out a soft chuckle. “You are wise beyond your years, Lexa,” she says finally, turning so her back is to the railing, tilting her head up at the few floors left above them.

“I have the wisdom of every Heda before me,” Lexa replies simply, mimicking Clarke’s position, trying to see what the blonde was seeing.

“Is it comforting?” Clarke asks quietly, her eyes drawn to something above their heads. “Knowing you’re not doing this alone, I mean.”

“I _am_ doing this alone,” Lexa hums, finally finding the birds nest Clarke has been eyeing. “Just because I can meditate and reach the wisdom of the past, does not mean I am not alone in this.”

“I just mean...you have some semblance of an idea of what you should be doing,” Clarke sighs, her eyes falling shut. “You aren’t just drifting helplessly.”

“Is that how you feel? That you’re drifting without direction?” Lexa asks the idea making her chest tighten.

“I’m tired,” is all the blonde says before she pushes away from the railing, heading for the door.

Lexa follows after her, Clarke’s response weighing heavy in her mind. Clearly, Clarke wasn’t physically tired, at least not entirely. She was exhausted, down to her very soul and Lexa wishes for nothing more than to take some of the weight off of the woman’s shoulders.

One day Clarke would be happy again, Lexa would make sure of that.

* * *

 

Lexa wakes with a start, nearly falling off of the couch in her hast to sit up. “ _Skrish,”_ she breathes out, her heart hammering in her chest. Her eyes dart around the room, trying to identify what had woken her up.

She’s ready to dismiss it and return to sleep when a whimper sounds from across the room. “Clarke?” She asks, her brow furrowing as she strains to listen.

When the soft sound comes from the blonde again it is accompanied by the shifting of sheets and a soft thud against the mattress. “No, don’t,” Clarke mumbles, before there’s more thrashing coming from the bed.

As soon as Lexa connects the dots, she’s up and off the couch a little too fast, slamming her shin off of the table. “ _Jok,”_ she hisses out, grinding her teeth together while she forces herself toward the bed.

She pats along the small table next to her bed until she finds the small bowl of matches, striking it against the side of the container before lighting a few candles with it. Once she has some light, she turns toward the bed, finding Clarke tangled among the bedding, soaked in sweat.

Lexa lets out a soft sigh as she settles on the edge of the mattress, reaching a tentative hand out resting it on Clarke’s shoulder. “Clarke, wake up,” she says softly, shaking the woman’s shoulder gently.

Clarke’s body jolts away from her touch, the sky girl rolling over and away from Lexa as she mutters in her sleep. The commander shakes her head a bit, scooting further onto the bed so she can reach out again.

“Come on, Clarke, it’s just a dream,” Lexa says, a little louder this time, flinching when Clarke shifts again, nearly ending up in her lap. “ _Klark,”_ she tacks on a with a little force, hoping the tone would jolt the woman out of her nightmare.

“Lexa...please,” Clarke whimpers out, her body curling in on itself as the woman shakes among the sheets.

Lexa’s heart throbs painfully in her chest, a deep frown forming at the knowledge that Clarke was in distress because of her. “I’m here, _ai natshana,”_ she says softly, brushing her fingers through Clarke’s hair. “Wake up.”

Lexa is surprised when eyelids flicker open, revealing deep blue irises. Clarke seems just as taken aback by finding Lexa in her bed. There is a moment where the commander is sure she’ll be told to leave, but then Clarke is sitting up a little too fast for Lexa to realize what is happening until the blonde’s arms are wrapped around her firmly.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa finds herself whispering as she moves her arms around Clarke, being careful of the still healing wounds on her back.

Clarke doesn’t respond, not with words anyway. Her chest heaves, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Hot tears spill against Lexa’s shoulder, soaking her linen tunic like it was nothing. The blonde clutches her closer, squeezing as tightly as she can manage.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” Clarke whispers once her breathing has started to slow again. “I thought I would never see you again.”

“Fate is a fickle thing, Clarke,” Lexa says despite herself as she rocks them slowly, keeping Clarke as close as possible without hurting the woman.

Clarke nods against her shoulder before pressing her face against Lexa’s neck. “I’m sorry that I hated you for all that time,” she whispers, as though she was afraid of saying them out loud. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“You do not have to apologize,” Lexa replies just as soft. She knew she deserved worse for causing Clarke such pain. “I’m sorry you have nightmares about me.”

“I wasn't having a nightmare about you, well I was, but it wasn’t your fault,” Clarke says, yawning softly. “I dreamt that those Ice Nation warriors attacked you instead of me. You were dying.”

Lexa swallows hard around the lump in her throat, turning her head to bury her nose in blonde locks. “I’m still sorry.”

When Clarke doesn’t reply right away, Lexa worries she may have said something wrong, but she realizes with a chuckle that the younger woman has fallen asleep. Soft snores sound against Lexa’s ear, making her smile softly.

“Sleep well, Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was kind of short, I have a lot more planned for the next chapter


	4. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably shit, I apologize, I've just been going through a lot and writing has been kind of hard lately. I hope you enjoy this anyway.

“Fuck,” Clarke murmurs, squeezing her eyes shut. “This hurts worse than when they were put in,” she sighs softly, trying not to tense when Kasie removes another stitch, the thread tugging against her skin. 

“I am sorry, Wanheda,” Kasie says softly when she finally manages to pull the stitch free, tossing it into a bowl next to Clarke’s head. “If you would just let me get you a draught for the pain...” 

“No, it’s okay,” Clarke chuckles, biting the inside of her cheek as Kasie continues. “I can handle it, I promise.” 

“Okay,” the healer hums as she works on another piece of thread. “If it is any consolation, we are almost finished here.” 

“Thank you, Kasie,” Clarke replies, doing her best to relax. She would be free to roam soon and that meant she could finally get some answers about the night she was attacked. 

Another twenty minutes goes by before the last stitch is finally removed and Clarke is free to bathe on her own for the first time in almost two weeks. 

She hisses softly as the water laps at her wounds, the cleansing oil in the bath stinging the tender skin. She does her best not to seem urgent as she washes, trying to take enough time that Kasie wouldn’t be concerned. 

Once she’s clean and has forced herself to sit in the warm water for another ten minutes, she undoes the plug and climbs out, wrapping a soft deer skin around herself before padding out into the main part of the chamber. “Kasie, I think I’m going to sleep, is that alright?” 

The young healer smiles from her spot on the couch, nodding her head. “Of course, Wanheda, sleep will help you heal faster,” she says, standing slowly. “Would you like me to let Heda know, so she will not disturb you?” 

Clarke almost slips up, almost tells Kasie not to bother the commander, but catches herself as she reaches the bed. “That would be wonderful,” she hums, burying her fingers in one of the furs. “And Kasie?” 

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to call me Wanheda all the time,” Clarke sighs softly, trying to squash the pain that always accompanies her new title. “Clarke is just fine.” 

Kasie looks like she wants to argue but instead flashes her a smile. “I think I can do that,” she hums before making her way to the door. “Have a good sleep, Clarke.” 

“Thank you, Kasie.”

* * *

 

Clarke clenches her teeth as she runs through the woods, past the spot where she had been attacked, irrational fear pushing her to move faster. She knows that it is unlikely that Azgeda would be waiting for her again, but that doesn’t stop the rapid pounding of her heart as foggy images of that night swarm her mind. 

The teeth and claws of the  _ onca  _ nothing compared to the ruthless ice nation soldiers. Clarke had gotten off easy and she has no doubt that she would have ended up just like Costia if that jaguar hadn’t attacked. 

“Never thought I would be grateful to be mauled by an animal,” she snorts softly as she slows her pace. Niylah’s cabin was close by and she wanted the element of surprise. 

Clarke makes a wide circle around the land surrounding the small shelter, her feet barely making a sound as she makes her way to the back entrance. She leans against the back wall for just a moment, trying to even out her breathing as she withdraws a dagger from her boot. She wants answers and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get them. 

Clarke is slow and precise as she opens the door, making sure she’s as quiet as can be as she hovers in the doorway, listening for any signs of her former lover. The sound of shuffling steps can be heard from the front of the dwelling, muffled voices sounding beyond the wall that separates the shop from the living area of the building. 

She creeps into the back, closing the door gently before she’s leaning against the wall next to Niylah’s bed, pressing her ear to the wood. She can hear clipped phrases in Trigedasleng and the soft sounds of materials being moved before the clear sound of the heavy front door shutting hard. 

It’s silent long enough that Clarke is all action once more, ducking around the wall to find Niylah’s back to her, the woman dealing with something on the counter. Clarke is frozen for a moment, the dagger falling from her loose grasp. It hits the floor with a loud clatter, bouncing off toward the side as Niylah whips around. 

“Clarke?” Niylah gasps, a hand coming up to her mouth as Clarke springs from her crouch, moving to slam Niylah into the wall. “How?”

“Why did you betray me?” Clarke rushes out, hoping it sounded less desperate than she felt. She had trusted Niylah, shared her heart with the young woman, only for it to end up like this. 

Niylah has tears running down her cheeks even before Clarke’s forearm is slotted against her throat, applying gentle pressure. “Clarke, I am so sorry,” she whimpers out, her hands left limp at her sides. 

Clarke can feel her heart clenching painfully as she stares into Niylah’s dark eyes. “Why did you do it?” She asks a little softer now, her arm still pressed against the other woman’s throat. “I trusted you.” 

Niylah’s eyes drop to Clarke’s chin for a moment before they fall closed and she breathes out the softest reply. “They were going to kill my father...he’s all I have left, Clarke.” 

Clarke sighs softly, her hold on the trader falling loose as she steps back just enough to give her room to breathe. She’s quiet, too quiet it seems because Niylah starts fidgeting under her gaze and a small part of Clarke is pleased by that. 

She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but the moment is interrupted when the front door is kicked in and Clarke reacts on instinct, moving to push Niylah behind her. Clarke curses herself for dropping her weapon earlier, but she’s still ready to fight, her whole body poised to attack.

* * *

 

Lexa sighs softly as she paces the throne room, the scout she had sent to the Ice Nation border fidgeting in front of her. “You’re sure?” She asks, stopping in front of him, her hands behind her back. 

The man nods, his gaze barely meeting her own. “They mean to use Wanheda against you,” he says, wringing his hands together. “Is this girl worth a war, Heda?” 

Lexa reacts without thought, turning on her heel to face the man. “You dare question your commander?” She all but snarls through clenched teeth. “You’ll do well to remember what happened to the last person who thought they knew better than I.” 

Her heart clenches painfully as the memory of driving her sword into Gustus’ chest flashes through her mind. She was Heda, she couldn’t afford to have others think she was weak. 

It takes everything she has not to flinch when she hears Titus clear his throat, the disapproving sound bringing her back to her senses. “Wanheda is a valuable ally and if the Ice Nation thinks they can use her against me, they are sadly mistaken,” she says cooly, standing up straight once more. “Back to your duties.” 

The man wastes no time and is out of the room before Lexa can even turn to face her advisor. “Do that in front of someone again and I will find myself another Flamekeeper,” she threatens, her jaw setting as she stares down the man who raised her. 

Titus looks ready to argue, but all he does is nod before moving toward the door. “You would do well to remember your upbringing,” he says before he takes his leave. 

“Love is weakness,” she mutters, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. “I’m sorry, Gustus,” she whispers softly, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, willing away the tears that burn at the corners of her eyes.

* * *

 

Lexa doesn’t think twice as she pushes open the doors to her chambers, a selfish part of her hoping Clarke had finished her nap.

The smile that’s been ghosting upon her lips, fades into a worried frown when she finds her bed empty and the blonde nowhere to be found. 

“Clarke,” she calls out as she walks toward the bathroom, her brow furrowing when she finds it empty as well. 

Panic settles in the pit of her stomach as she marches back out into the hall, barking orders at the guards to find out any information on Wanheda’s whereabouts.

She doesn’t stop to give anyone a second glance as she makes her way to healers’ wing, her mind racing. Lexa’s heart pounds in her chest as she walks up to Kasie, fearing that Clarke had left for good. 

“Where’s Wanheda?” She asks as soon as she’s in front of the young healer, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

“She told me she was going to rest, remember?” Kasie replies her brow furrowed. “I told you that before your meeting.”

Lexa lets out the softest sound, something akin to a whimper as she runs a nervous hand over her braids. “She wasn’t in the room when I went in there.”

“Perhaps she went to explore the city,” Kasie murmurs, placing a gentle hand on Lexa’s arm. “Breathe, Heda.” 

* * *

Lexa finally gets answers in the city when a small boy overhears her conversation with a shop keeper about Clarke.

“I saw that girl go into the woods earlier,” he says as he walks up, his wide eyes looking up at Lexa like he was seeing something amazing.

“About how long ago?” She asks, brows raised at the little one. 

“A little over a half an hour, I think,” he replies with a shrug, his gaze moving from Lexa to a large sweet pastry on the counter. 

“Thank you,” Lexa smiles, following his line of sight before digging into her jacket pocket, leaving a few coins on the counter. “Go ahead and get whatever you want.” 

The boy grins at her before grabbing a sweet roll, bowing his head to her and the shopkeeper. “Mochof,” he says softly before scampering off. 

Lexa thanks the shopkeeper before taking her leave, finding her way to the edge of the forest without a second thought. It’s not hard to pick up Clarke’s trail, the skygirl was definitely not a creature of stealth. 

She catches up to Clarke after a mile or so, catching the familiar blonde mop of hair in the window of a trading outpost. Clarke’s got someone pressing into the wall when Lexa makes it to the window, picking up the muffled voices of the two. 

_ “Why did you do it?”  _ Clarke’s warped voice asks, her sadness seeping into her words.  _ “I trusted you.”  _

_ “They were going to kill my father...he’s all I have left, Clarke.” _

The information clicks in Lexa’s mind after a moment, this girl was the one who betrayed Clarke to the Ice Nation. Ice cold rage trickles through Lexa’s veins as she steps away from the window to stand in front of the door. She squares her shoulders before channeling her strength into a well placed kick, sending the door crashing inward, the wood splintering around the hinges. 

Lexa finds Clarke standing protectively in front of the enemy, eyes hard and teeth bared. “Lexa?” The blonde breathes out but she doesn’t move from her spot. “What are you doing here?” 

“You disappear from the tower and you’re surprised when I come looking for you?” Lexa replies, her body seeming to vibrate with the effort not to attack. “Why are you protecting your enemy?” 

“Niylah isn’t the enemy,” Clarke replies cooly, her eyes narrowing. “She was protecting her own, you would know all about that.” 

It’s a low blow that has Lexa taking a physical step back, hurt flashing through her. “It’s not safe out here,” she says after a moment as she stands up straight, her frame seemingly made taller by the low ceiling. 

Lexa can feel the walls around her heart sliding into place as she watches Clarke finally move away from Niylah. This would be the last time she wore her heart on her sleeve. “I’ll send someone by to fix the door,” she says cooly before she’s turning on her heel, unable to look at either of the other women. 

She ignores the soft call of her name as her feet carry her out into the cool evening air, her head tilting back to look at the trees around her. Lexa closes her burning eyes for a moment before opening them to the dark green canopy above. Would Clarke never truly forgive her for the mountain? 


End file.
